


Falling Heavens

by Kladdis



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Betrayal, But so is Bill, Dark!Dipper, Dipper is an asshole, Insanity, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild torture, Psychological Torture, Sleep Deprivation, This was supposed to be around 20 pages shoter, alternate storyline, keys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kladdis/pseuds/Kladdis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mabel decided against deactivating the portal, something inside Dipper breaks.<br/>He feels betrayed by his sister and unappreciated by the rest of the Pines family.<br/>Adding to the stress, Dipper seems unable to get a good nights rest and suffers the consequences in the waking world.</p><p>Is he just another pawn in a great game again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta for this chapter

“Mabel, press the red button. SHUT IT DOWN!”

Dipper's grip on Stan increased, fearing if he'd let go now, the world would crumble. It will either way, but that's besides the point.

“No, you can´t! You gotta trust me!” Stan shouted over the blaring noise of the portal. His voice hitched, bordering on insanity. The voice of a completely desperate man.

“G-grunkle Stan.. I-I don't even know if you're even my Grunkle..” Mabel uttered, clinching to the emergency-button's pole. She was clearly near tears “I wanna believe you, but-”

“Then listen to me.” Stan interrupted her. “Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?” A simmer of hope was in the old man's voice. Mabel hadn't pressed the button yet, there was still a chance!

“ _T-20 Seconds_ “ announced a metallic voice over an unseen speaker embedded somewhere in the walls.  
The three man had no time to process what those words meant as a blast coming from the triangular portal pressed the air out of their lungs and hurled them on the opposite wall, keeping them locked in the air.  
But the old man seemed not to care, as he grasped for literal straws.

“I wanted to say that you gonna hear some bad things about me.” he said, locking eyes with the scared girl, seemingly trying to show his sincerity. “And some of them are true, but trust me! Everything I worked for, everything I care about, its all for this family!”

“Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe, LISTEN TO YOUR HEAD!” Dipper shouted towards his fearful sibling. Now was his turn in sounding desperate.

“Look into my eyes, Mabel. You really think I'm a bad guy?” Stan urged the girl.

“He's lying! Shut it down, NOW!” 

“Mabel please!“

“ _Ten, Nine_ ” interrupted the bodiless voice again. Mabel's hand lowered towards the tempting red button. Her face twist in tension, her hand barley touching the glowing plastic as she looked up, searching Stan's eyes.  
“Grunkle Stan..“ she mumbled, tears streaming from her eyes in the void of the portal.

“ _Six, Five_ ”

Mabel removed he hand from the cursed thing and her grip around the pole loosenes.  
“I trust you...”

Letting her arms be dragged completely over her head from the force field surrounding the portal, Mabel begins to levitate in it's enter – the eye of the storm.

Dipper's eyes widen in shock. “Mabel are you CRAZY? We´re all gonna ge-...”

“ _One_ ”

A frantic shout of panic was all the four could muster as the portal exploded in a flash of white light, tearing reality itself and swallowing the world hole.  
As the dust settles Dipper groaned in pain and he watched the now completely destroyed portal in horror and distrust. He tried to suppress a shudder as a shadow emerges from the blue glowing rift in time and space, bowing down to pick up the first journal and storing it in an conveniently shaped pocked inside his coat.

“W-What? Who- who is that?” Dipper faintly breathed out, not believing his eyes. What creature could survive traversing between universes? Shoving the obvious answer to that question out of his mind, because that man was definitely not triangular shaped, Dipper continued to stare, all his prior emotions tucked in a corner of his mind.

Stan recovered from the blast next to him, holding his head in pain as well “The author of the journals” he explaind as the stranger took his hood off and removed his scarf in a trained motion. “My brother..”

Dipper and Mabel stared with jaws slack, Soos next to them as the female twin asked with a finger pointing questioningly up, “Is this the part where one of us faints?”  
“Oh, I'm so on it dude -” answered Soos over-eagerly and fell to the ground stiff like a plank.

YRG LBHE QVFGEHFG GNXR ERVTA!

~

“Finally! After all these long years of waiting. Your actually here!”  
Stan shouted delighted and started walking towards the stranger in black. “Brother!“  
The old man called and opened his arms for a welcoming hug.  
He did not, however, count in the fist colliding with his cheekbone as the stranger threw a powerful punch at him.

“What the heck was that for?” Stan asked angered, holding the side of his face on which a blue mark begun to form while he looked at his brother accusingly.

“This was an insanely risky move.” The stranger answered with a surprisingly smooth and deep voice. “Restarting the portal... Didn't you read my warnings?”

“Warnings, shmarnings. Hows about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be- I dunno- some kind of si-fi-sideburn dimension?” Stan asked, still rubbing his cheek, trying to get the blood circulated so no major bulge would appear.

“Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you did 30 years ago? “ The stranger said with a slowly building fury behind his words.  
“What I did? Why you – ungrateful-” Blinded with rage, Stan tried to punch the stranger, only for him to stumble into nothingness, as said man simply side-stepped, avoiding his brothers fist and took hold of the arm while twisting it behind Stans back – rendering him useless and without defence.

“Don't expect me to go easy on you just because your family!” Stan shouted furious, tensing his muscle to break his brothers grip. Feeling Stan's intent, the stranger pressed his body against his prisoner, throwing them both to the ground and keeping Stan locked there with his bodyweight. Oblivious to the approaching girl, the stranger continued to stare at Stan's defiant expression.

“Hey, hi. Mabel here.” She said with a nervous smile on her face while waving at the bundle of body's on the ground. „Quick question. What the heck is going on?“ shouted the brunette, completely changed behaviour, looking lost.  
“Stan, you didn't tell me there where children down here” The stranger said embarassed, expression soften while he rose, straightening before turning to Soos “– and some sort of large, hairless goofer?”  
“Hehe, I get that a lot” Soos chuckled.

“They're your family Point-dexter. Shermy's grand kids.” Stan said while he approached his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder.  
“I-I have a niece and a nephew?” The stranger gasped and looked at the two children in front of him with glee.

He knelt down in front of Mabel and began shacking her hand.  
“Greeting! Do kids still say greeting? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time” frowned the man.

“Woah, six fingered hand shack? Its a full finger friendlier than normal” Mabel stated excited. “Haha, I like this kid, she's weird” laughed the stranger before turning to the uncharacteristically quiet twin, but Dipper just continues to stare at Mabel with a blank face.

The stranger coughed awkwardly “Listen, there will be times for introductions later. First, tell me Stan, are there any security breaches? Anyone else who knows about this portal?” urged the man, turning to Stan  
“No, just us...” A sight of relief left the stranger. “Although maybe the entire US-Goverment” Stan added.

“The- WHAT?“ shouted the stranger. Before his brother could answer though, a static-filled voice blared from one of the monitors in the next room. Pressing against the glass separation the two rooms, the two old man looked fearful at the image of two agents clad in black suits.  
“Fan out. We are not going anywhere until we find Stan Pines and those kids” one of the suits called to other agents out of shot.

Running his hand down his face the stranger begun to pace and started mumbling „Ok, it's alright. We got awhile before they find this room. We just need to lay low and think of a plan” He began writing frantically in the first journal and passed the twin, which seemed to defreeze Mabel.

“Well, looks like we are stuck down here for a while- who wants to tell us their entire mysterious back-story?” she asked mirthful while winking at the stranger.

The stranger stopped in his tracks and turned to Stan “Yes, I have some questions about all this myself Stanley.”

For the first time since the stranger appeared, Dipper lifted his expressionless glare from his sister's back and confusedly muttered “Stanley?“

“But your name is Stanford” added Mabel with a pout.

“Wait, you took my name? What have you been doing all these years, you nuckelhead?” the stranger barked accused.

“Ok, ok. I know I have a lot of explaining to do. It all started a lifetime ago..”

While Grunkle Stan talked Dipper found himself starring at his sister again. He could simply not fandom how she was able to betray him without a second thought. It had worked out in the end – yes – but it did not changed the fact that Dipper felt incredibly hurt.  
He felt as if his chest was forcefully drawn around his core and he had problems to breath properly. It would pass, he knew that, since it was far from being the first time he felt disappointed in his sisters actions. His love for his cheerful sibling would outdo his emotional pain.

But still. There was something inside Dipper he could not quite name. A mixture of rage, the feeling of betrayal and … jealousy? Was he jealous, because Mabel rather listened to their Grunkle than him, her own brother? That couldn't be it, Dipper tried to convince himself.  
Of course Mabel still believed him, she just... believed Stan more?

Dipper looked at the stranger, this 'Stanford', seeing the similarity between the brothers. He wondered why he didn't feel anything else though. This was the author of the journals! Dipper had spent nights over nights puzzling who the mysterious author could be and now that he was finally in front of Dipper, he could not bring himself to care.  
To deep was the wound in his chest, to fresh the imminent danger of being pulverised by the portal. 

Taking a deep breath, Dipper tried to swallow down these ugly feeling, tried to forget that he yet again defied death by an inch and heaped the little anticipation for meeting the author he could muster right now and approached the group. He tried to step in the story Stanford told but found himself unbelievably lost and decided to tone the talking out in favour of staring holes inside his sister's back yet again, his head thankfully empty.

A voice from overhead ripped him from the blissfully nothingness “I think I heard talking. It was coming from downstairs” The muffled voice commented. 

“Oh no, its too late. The agents are coming for us!” Stanford rambled, completely thrown out of his storyteller-mode, Dipper noted.

“What do we do?” Mabel asked, slight panic in her voice.

“Oh man. I was so spellbound by your dramatic tale, I forgot all about those dudes” pondered Soos, looking to the grey cave celling as well.

“Forget? I might know a way we could defeat these agents!“ smirked Dipper, already pulling out the memory gun from the depth of his bag pack. He hold the gun out to Stanford while the temporary felling of excitement ebbed away and brought him back into his emotionless state.

“Of course! I don't know how you got hold of one of these but this is perfect! If I can just amplify the signal to a radio head-set frequency...” mumbled Stanford as he took the memory gun and connected it to what seemed to be a submarine-lockout of some sort.  
Looking through a periscope to check the positions of the agents Stanford shouted,  
“There, now everyone! Plug your ears! Get down, NOW”

A painful pitch noise filled the air as Dipper just so managed to close his auditory canal with his index fingers.  
The earth seemed to shake as the now weaker but still painful noise screeched through the air. Dipper closed his eyes for good measure. 

Just as the noise was near unbearable it stopped, leaving a strange tingling in Dipper's ears and under his skin.

“Well, what now, genius?“ mocked Grunkel Stan.  
Stanford gaped his chin and began tipping on the side of his face, deep in thought.  
Dipper jolted his head to get rid of the strange after-effects while Mabel excessively began to drill around her ears with her pinkie. Soos looked surprisingly unaffected as he watched the four others.

They all jolted as Stanford snapped and turned to face them. “Do you happen to have a few papers I could borrow?“

 

Outside of the shack agents hold their heads in confusion and pain, where were they? Agent Trigger turned to Agent Powers, looking for guidance but finding none.

That was until a complete stranger, or was he? - he looked oddly familiar -, stepped on the porch with a few important looking papers in his hands.

“Stand down, gentleman. I've been send with the latest Intel from Washington. According to this very real report the power surges in Gravity falls are actually the radiation from an unreported meteor shower. A total embarrassment for your hole department. Luckily, I'm here to take this mess of your hands. But I need all of your.. floppy disks? And uh,.. 8-tracks, right?” Stanford announced with an authority in his voice that was unquestioned by the fresh-brainwashed agents.

“Ah, everything about this case is contained on this drive” Agent Trigger responded, rubbing his head with a painful expression on his face.  
Stanford gapped the small flash drive, while trying to hold his wonder over this invention. Did all the data really fit on this small stick? 

Shacking his head to lift his confusion, Stanford shouted “Well, what are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek? Get out of here before I have your butts court-marshalled!”

“Ah, yes sir. Apologies Sir” Agent Powers groaned before he blew in a whistle  
“False alarm everyone. Roll out!” he commanded and almost immediately the black van's left the clearing of the shack towards the highway.  
Chuckling, Stanford feed the strange drive a suspicious looking goat.

“Great Uncle Stanford, that was amazing!” Mabel cheered as she exited the shack, coming to stop right in front of the addressed man.

Stan followed the blithesome girl and shrugged. ”Let's not go crazy, it was serviceable”

Ignoring his brother, Stanford turned down to the little twin. “Hehe, thank you kid. But please, call me Ford.”

“Oh, this is how we are supposed to address you? Not Grunkel-no-not-that-one? You do realize that you where dead for over 30 years, do you?“ Dipper snapped, still with that weird expression on his face.

“Dipper!“ Mabel scolded him while she turned around, shocked to say the least. She had excepted her brother to be all over Ford, since he wanted to meet the author for so long. But one look at her twins face was enough for Mabel to decipher her brothers emotions. A chill ran over her spine.

“Ahm, I ah-” stuttered Ford surprised. He had not estimated the kid as such a hostile person.

Before the situation could derail, Stanley disrupted “Alright kids. Its been a long day and me and my brother have a lot to talk about, so why don't you hit the hay?”

“But Grunkle Staan..“ Mabel wined, while she was shoved inside the shack.

“I said: Hit. The. Hay.” Stan growled.

The twins shuffle thought the rubble inside the mystery shack, Dipper leading them in silence, his cap shadowing his face.  
Entering their room, Dipper sat on his bed still with that detached expression while Mabel preferred not to loose any second as she pressed her face against the wooden door to eavesdrop. 

For a few moments nothing happened, Dipper enjoying the silence so similar to his head. 

“Did you hear what they said?” Mabel interrupted his peaceful not-thoughts. “I think Grunkle Ford said they're gonna buy us puppy’s made of ice cream. Might be wishful thinking though” she wondered, her face twisted into what she liked to call 'thinking-face'.

She looked towards Dipper, her everlasting smile dropping as she walked to her own bed.

“Look Dipdop...“ she begun, not knowing how to continue. She had never seen her brother so.. empty. Her unfinished sentence hung heavy in the air.  
She almost had enough courage collected to start another assault as Dipper lifted his head, a fake smile on his lips.

„Look Mabel, it's ok. Just- I dunno.. Let me sleep over it, ok? I am really tired. The world will look a lot brighter tomorrow.“ he suggested. Not believing her brothers own words, Mabel nodded nonetheless.

„Good night, bro-bro“ she said while laying on the warm cushions of her bed. She watched the familiar wood pattern of the askew celling as her brother slipped under his sheets, murmuring his own good-night wishes. A peak to the right revealed that Dipper was facing her with his back.

She really hoped that tomorrow everything would be alright again. Unknown to her, Dipper hoped the same.

 

25-15-21 4-15-14 20 20-8-9-14-11 9-20 23-15-21-12-4 2-5 20-8-9-19 5-1-19-25 4-15 25-15-21 

~

He was drowning.  
Black tar surrounded him, crushing his body with deep-see level pressure.  
He couldn't see, hear nothing except for the faint gurgle inside his head.  
He was slowly sinking to the ground, wherever that was and his body screamed for needed air. His lungs felt sore, his throat arched.  
Dipper had no idea if his eyes were open or closed, no that it would make any difference.

_I don’t want to die._

The pressure on his lungs was unbearable and without second thinking Dipper opened his mouth instinctive to gasp for air.  
Slickly, oozing fluid poured down his trachea - filling his arching lungs, as the liquid spread in his systems, shifting muscle out of its way- breaking bones with enough strength to grind them into powder instantly.  
A scream of agony wanted to leave Dippers lips, but he found himself with a mouth full of viscous fluidity, straining his jaw as it was forced into this unnatural wide position.

_I don’t want to die!_

Over the agonising pain Dipper felt his foot connection with a rubbery surface and before he knew was sucked through, landing on a wooden chair, still oozing in tar.

Opening his eyes revealed to Dipper that he was - indeed on a wooden chair – inside the cramped kitchen of the shack.  
Grunkel Stan was facing him with his back, cooking something that looked surprisingly like pancakes and his sister sat across him on the kitchen table, head deep inside her memory scrapbook. 

Relieve flooded through Dipper at the tranquil atmosphere, though he felt sticky and disgusting. His hard feeling for his sister, which he could just faintly remember – why had they argued anyway? - where completely gone as he looked at the enthusiastic head of bushy hair he could see behind the top of the book. 

Feeling the need to apologize for this previous behaviour, Dipper opened his mouth to address his sister. Instead of sound however, black liquid spurted between his lips.  
Startled, Dipper began to cough, only for more tar to leave his mouth. His body cramped as panic flooded back trough his system, still coughing.

“Dipper?“ his sisters soothing voice sounded somewhere above him. She sounded far away, as if between the siblings a concrete wall stood.

Pleadingly looking at his sister, Dipper rose his head and forgot to breath for a second. Where his sisters face used to be was just blank skin spanned over he bones inside her skull. Dipper felt his insides run cold as he grasped, ignoring the horrible gurgling sound leaving his lips.

“Dipper? Is everything ok? You look as if you have seen a ghost.“ Grunkel Stan stated with worry lacing his voice. He had turned around to look at his nephew, revealing a blank face as well. 

Dipper stood abruptly, his chair hitting the ground, but Dipper found himself caring little as he sprinted past his sister to the door separating the rest of the shack from the gift shop.  
Ramming his shoulder in cold panic at the wooden door, Dipper speeded past the merchandise and cash register.

„W-what? Dipper? What's wrong?“ asked a faceless Wendy startled, but Dipper ignored her, evading Soos who stood in the way and next thing he knew, he was running to the familiar forest surrounding the shack.

As he passed the tree line, he felt immediately calmed, but decided against stopping and simply let his legs carry him wherever they pleased.  
As the panic slowly ebbed from this body and his skin began to warm up again, Dipper found himself actually enjoying to simply run without a care in the world. He stretched his arms, feeling the wind rushing past them, giving him a strange giddy feeling.

But Dipper was never really athletic, so his muscles soon betrayed him, leaving him with a painful ache and empty lungs on a tranquil clearing.

Supporting his arms on his knees, Dipper took a few shuddering breaths before lifting his gaze and looking at the place his legs had brought him.  
The dark trees stood in contrast with the light green grass sprinkled with windflowers. Somewhere to his right he could hear water bubbling faintly. He heard a variety of different birds and other wild animals.

Dipper let the peaceful atmosphere hold him for a few seconds, completely draining the panic from before. With a sudden inspiration, Dipper looked down to his feet only to find the three journal lying there innocently.  
They looked as weathered as he remembered, the edges bend and bleached.

Without any reason, Dipper grasped inside the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a yellow matchbox. Watching himself pulling out one of the wooden sticks inside, Dipper mused what he should do with these now.  
Looking down to the journals again, Dipper frowned.

BURN THEM!

Dippers eyes widen and he shudder. He did not expect to have such aggressive thoughts.  
Swallowing hard, Dippers gaze fell on the match again. Should he really?

Shacking his head frightened, Dipper threw the match to the ground. These journals where precious! They where the only thing where Dipper felt at home sometimes, he could not just burn them!

Feeling his fingers itch again to pull out another match, Dipper tossed the matchbox far inside the forest. He breathed heavy as if he had run through the forest again.  
What was wrong with him?

„Dipper! I'm glad I found you!“ Mabel's voice echoes around the clearing as she approached with clumps footfall.

The male twin turned around to his sister, forgetting for a moment the horrendous experience from earlier.

His guts clenched as his gaze fell on his sisters face. Where there had been simply skin before where now familiar words etched into her skin with bloody font.  
Mabel halted a step away from him, wind blowing thought her hair, moving it ever so slightly.

“You should not just run away, brother. That was really naughty“ his sister mused before closing the remaining distance. Almost gently, she laid her hands around Dippers throat.  
Panic lamed his movement and before he could reacted in any way, his sister had pushed him to the ground with surprising strength.

Sitting on his chest, Mabel closed her hands around his throat, effectively cutting off his air supply. Dipper snapped out of his trance like mood, finally realizing what was happening. His hands flew to Mabels' still pressing on his throat as Dipper tried to pry them of. Unable to break the iron grip, he began to claw at the flesh shackles around his air canal. With horror he watched as his fingernails detached without any resistance, leaving behind the same oozing black fluid that seemed to haunt him trough this dream.

Mabel begun to giggle madly and Dippers body began to spasm in fear.

I DONT WANT TO DIE!

His arms swayed around him, hitting everything within his reach. The need for air was greater that ever. He felt black spots appearing in his vision, as his hands stretched out to Mabel's face only for it to be just out of reach.

Dipper began gagging, tears streaming down his face – black almost completely filling his eyesight.

I DONT WANT TO DIE!

His arms went slack, as his body gave up the fight. The last thing Dipper noticed was Mabel's insanely giggling and as he close his eyes, an after-image of the bloody scripture on the inside of his eyelids

TRUST NO ONE!

 

GSV KFKKVGH ZIV RM KOZXV ULI GSV KOZB, HGRMTH XLMMVXGVW

~

Dipper woke with a voiceless scream. He was panting heavy and his vision blurred for a moment as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Fair enough, he was back in the shack, inside his bed and the clock on his bedside table showed that Dipper had only been sleeping for around two hours.

Cold sweat ran down his back and his legs where tangled around his blankets. Swallowing hard, Dipper glanced to Mabel's side of the room, relieved to find her still sleeping.  
Feeling the urge to move and not in the mood to continue sleeping, Dipper distangled his legs and bedsheets, which was a harder task than it seemed. He must have been seriously threshing around to create that mess out of knots and legs.

Finally free, Dipper stumbled out of their room, and without thought, heading towards the attic.  
Still shaken from his dream, Dipper sat down in the cushioned oriel and stared blind out of the window into the dark of the night.

He would never admit it, but this nightmare had shook him to the bone. It had felt so real and Dipper had no problem imagining that suffocation would feel exactly like what he had just experienced. 

He was tired, but sleep wouldn't come this night, he knew as much. It would not be a big problem, since it was not the first sleepless night in his life, but still. Dipper would be a lot grumpier than usual and with the already tense situation in the shack, that might be a problem.

The male twin tried to make himself comfortable on the red cushions, still watching the nightly sky. His eyes unfocused as he retreated in the depth of his mind only to snap right back. With big eyes, he glanced at the window.

It was by far not the first time Dipper noticed that the shack seemed to have ordinary objects weirdly shaped, but he had never noticed how much the triangular window with he eye like shape in the middle reminded him of Bill.

Suppressing a shudder, because he really did not want for the Window-Bill to see him express weakness, Dipper left the attic. He would find another place to space out. That should not be so hard, right?

.. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / -. --- - / -... . / ... --- / ... ..- .-. . / --- ..-. / - .... .- - --..-- / .--. .. -. . / - .-. . .

~

At dawn Dipper finally settled down, completely exhausted. He had roamed the house the entire night in search of a place to relax and just let his thoughts wander. Instead he had found as soon as he made himself comfortable, a triangle, unnoticed before, would spring at him, leaving him with the distinctive feeling of being watched.

So he sat in the gift shop, reading the second journal to pass time when Mabel and Stan, just coming from breakfast, appeared in the doorway. For a moment Dipper feared to look in the same blank faces from his dream. Without commenting his weirdness Grunkle Stan sat behind the cash register and began counting the income from the prior days.

Mabel shot Dipper a look, guilt evident in her eyes as she grabbed a cheese nacho bag and lay on the ground next to him as she begun eating the nachos without using her arms.

It was so unmistakably Mabel-esque that Dipper would have laughed, would he not be on the edge of dozing away into the scary nightmare realm from before.

 

Around noon Mabel had finished her Bag and was lazily blowing it in the air. Some comment about the 'lazy Tuesday' later, though it was Friday, which Dipper couldn't concentrate on since his eyes where dangerously close to being shut.

Behind heavy lashes Dipper saw the as a vending-machine disguised door break open, Ford exiting with a creature similar to an octopus around his arm.  
Oblivious to the panic going through the room, Dipper watched as the old man activated a strange, probably electrocuting glove, hearing his sister crying out in distress but not really realising it. The creature, he remembered reading about it, but the information was inaccessible, buried deep down in his conscience, began to flee from Ford, slickering past Dipper, clearly thinking him paralysed by fear.

But the exhaustion had eradicated his emotional capability, he still felt to drained from the debacle yesterday as well as the restless night.  
So he didn’t think twice as he rushed the journal still in his hand down at the beast, striking it with a satisfyingly crack, the sound unnatural loud in the stunned shack.

As Dipper rose the heavy book again and the beast seemed to recover from his temporary shock, Ford jumped forth and smote the tentacle monster again, this time longer and with more precision.

For a few moments, the shack was unbelievably silent, almost deafening. Stench comparable to a mixture out of long dead fish and the strong alcohol Stan sometimes drunk when he believed the kids to be sleeping.  
“Great. Now get it out of here, smells like death could barf.” Or that, Dipper mused. 

As Mabel made a show of covering her nose and frantically waving her hand in front of her face to dispel the horrendous smell, Ford strolled over to the position Dipper had still not left.

„Quick thinking there, kid. You could make a great mystery hunter.“ he praised. Slowly, Dipper rose his head and slowly blinked at the old man. Why was Ford talking to him as if he was a child that needed praise for continuously mashing different colours on a paper? Mabel had always got this kind of praise, never Dipper.

“I had plenty of practice during this summer.“ he said lamely, still not really able to process what just happened. Why was that man talking to him again? God, he was so tired.

“Well, if you wanted, we could talk a little about those adventures of you? Later of course, when I disposed this little fella, what do you say?“ Ford proposed, looking genuinely interested in the boys company. 

Another Dipper would have probably exploded out of sheer excitement or at least produced a screech in the pitch only dolphins could hear. But this Dipper wasn't tired and sore, this Dipper had his emotions figured out, this Dipper had let his unconditional love for his sister override his concerns.

But that was not the Dipper in the here and now. This Dipper noticed the pointed stare from Grunkle Stan, which made Ford visibly uncomfortable.  
This Dipper noticed his sisters exited squeak, who seemed to be a lot more effected by this proposal that Dipper himself.

This Dipper noticed a mosquito flying against the lamp of the gift shop again and again, feeling compassion and even a little empathy for that poor little thing.

So this Dipper just shrugged, getting up from his position, stretching and feeling his back pop. His butt was sore from sitting on the hard, wooden floor for so long but he found it hard to care when the rest of his body felt equally raw.

Without a care in the world, this Dipper passed a baffled Ford and ventured down to the secret lab, leaving behind the bewildered Pines family.  
Before Dipper could reach the elevator though, Ford grabbed his shoulder and turned the absent minded boy around to look him in the eyes. The man had lived too long with too much betrayal and misplaced trust to simply write the boys strange behaviour off.

Dipper stared in the slightly bloodshot eyes of his second Grunkle, confused but too tired to care. Ford hold eye contact a little longer than socially acceptable but when he couldn't find what he was looking for, sighing exhausted.

Dragging a hand over his face – Dipper watched with a kind of morbid fascination how the skin seemed to follow the motion – and exhaling again, Ford began to stammer “Look, Dipper – was it?“ A nod. “Look, I don't think that would be, uh... the right opportunity to come down right now... You know, the portal has made quite the mess and, ah – I don't really want a child down there when it is not perfectly safe..“

The other Dipper would have swallowed the bait, the other Dipper would have cough awkwardly, before ascending again. Heck, the other Dipper would have never come in this position in the first place. But this Dipper simply stated “You don't trust me.“

Before Ford could say anything, Dipper smiley good natured as he remembered the blood red font of his dream. “Well, that is perfectly ok. Trust no on, right?“ he said, still with that docile smile on his face as he turned around and stepped the stairs up again.

Ford watched the back of the strange kid, wondering if the kid had been like this before, or if his journals had done this kind of damage to the innocent mind of a child.

Dipper on the other hand only noticed how strange his behaviour was, how uncharacteristically that has been, when he had already passed Mabel and Stan to sit on the poach, starring in the forest.

ZWF NCV CVX IVV LHCG, ZPH

~

The goat was really suspicious. It was a combination out of it's unfocused stare though still with the ability to follow you without even trying and the habit to eat everything that was not made of sugar beet, for whatever reason that was.

Now the goat was currently chewing on a blue 21er cube of Dippers favourite game 'Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons'. He had got the game from a local store in hope of breaking the ice with Mabel again and to forget his strange behaviour from the prior day as well as relax a little. 

He had legendary one and a half hours of sleep last night before the sweat bringing nightmare had finally let him wake up, his dreams filled with oozing tar, empty faces and the urge to burn. The context has been different but the content had been the same as in his first.  
Restless, he had roamed the shack again before settling on the couch standing on the poach, trying to ignore the feeling of someone watching and suppressing the urge to look over his shoulder every few seconds. He would not spend another night outside where every noise had him jump out of his skin, expecting... well that was the question, was it?  
What exactly made Dipper so paranoid?

When the sun had risen, colouring the world in fiery orange, Dipper had made the decision to not spend this day sulking and sweeping in self-pity, complaining silently how tired he was. So he had went for a walk, hoping to clear his head before facing his family, only to end up in town in front of the local 'nerd' store, as his sister called it lovingly. He had seen the new edition of DD&D, coming up with the idea to use this to spend time with his sister. 

He blamed the sleep deprivation for his short sighted behaviour that in his joy over a problem practically solved, he had forgotten that Mabel was definitely _not_ the type of person playing a pen-and-paper game.  
It had still hurt, when she had shot him down only to make fun of him a moment later, together with Grunkle Stan, who had found childish glee in the word 'buttress'. Dipper saw that it had been an attempt to restore a feeling of normality, both needed by his sister and probably Grunkle Stan as well. Of course with him as a butt end for their jokes.

So Dipper ended up outside the shack with a set up DD&D party in the company of a goat who was currently eating his second dice.

He stared at the suspicious and hairy creature and felt his gaze unfocus, the companionship of the goat unexpected appreciated. At least the goat would eat the, possibly stalking and totally not a creation of his paranoid mind, entity before it could harm him. Taken that it wasn’t a giant sugar beet goddess, who felt unrecognised by the local farmers. Somehow Dipper doubted that this was the case. On the one hand for the obvious reason, on the other hand are the farmers known to worship even a crack in the floorboards if it would give them a better harvest.

His thoughts wandered back to Mabel. It had hurt when she had made fun of him, even when it was without evil intent. It always stung when she did that, but it was simply in Mabel's personality to tease. Normally these feelings where swift, fast forgotten under the crushing weight of sisterly love, but it had been awkward around the twins recently. If it was his sisters guilt still gnarling at her inners, Dippers foul mood duo to sleep deprivation or a combination out of these two, he could not say. The only comparable situation was when Mabel and Stan had teamed up to make fun of Dipper's manliness, but that kind of just.. dispensed into thin air. But this was a completely different situation.

Though Mabel had forgiven Stan because of whatever he had told her back in the basement, Dipper hadn't. He still could not believe, that his Grunkle had led such a double life. And that after he had promised not to keep secrets anymore!  
To be fair, Dipper had not really held that promise in high regards either, but it was a totally different situation.  
Dipper hadn't concealed an important life revelation, on which he had be followed by the government, but simply his activities in the forest! He only had the rest of the summer for that anyway. Not what sounded like at least a lifetime of secrecy!

His break of the promise was a lot more innocent, he just explored a bit for the thrill of doing so, no harm done. But to conceal a secret twin brother? That was a bit more severe than 'innocent'.

Stan was as guilty as Mabel was. 

This revelation crushed something inside Dipper and he felt near unbearable rage. It was just so unfair that everyone betrayed him. What had he not done for this family? All his sacrifices, every time he put back, someone elses need bigger than his own. The self-evidence everyone seemed to feel towards those very real sacrifices. 

Ford, _the fricking author of the journals_ , not acknowledging his skill, belittling him with a 'later, Dipper'. He had done more for this family, suffered more, but still this old fool thought himself above Dipper? From what Dipper had consciously listening to when the two brothers had told their life story's, he had gathered that Ford had abandoned everyone to live the life of an hermit in the forest, only turning for his brother when there was no other way, all whilst Dipper had suffered tease, mockery and incredulity for his deeds. And he was sill there, he still sacrificed! 

A furious growl left Dippers lips which turned into a frustrated scream, startling the goat into running away and leaving Dipper all alone. But he found himself not caring for the solitude. His exhausted mind had found a scapegoat.  
If Ford hadn't been so selfish, he would not have been sent to another dimension – Stan would not have the need to lie to everyone to keep his double life and ultimately, Mabel would not have betrayed him. 

 

That night, when he stood in the clearing of the forest again, he lit the match and watched the journals burn.

SSENDAM OT(NI) FFILC EHT NO SDNATS EH

~

It had been almost a week since the first nightmare. The nights where long and sleep came short. Dreams were torture, the exhaustion even more. Dipper was not able to think, his complete body ached and felt raw. He could barley walk the stairs to Mabel's and his room without breaking a sweat. He did not own a single shirt without saliva stains anymore since he tend to munch on the fabric when he was tired.

Needless to say that his relationship with the rest of the shack was more than a little stained. Even the smallest thing could tip Dipper of, throwing him in a tantrum of blind rage. Up until now he had been able to keep these thoughts inside, but he knew if he could not get a decent nights rest, he would snap.  
It didn't help that the reasoning why he could not just express his emotions became more and more irrational.

He looked awful, didn't need a mirror to know that. If he happened to pass one nevertheless he saw a face with hollow cheeks, bags under his eyes the size of poker chips and skin as pale as stale flour. His brown locks had lost their puffy structure and were greasy, his cap thankfully hiding this detail. But no amount of discretion could hide his obvious exhaustion and he tended to seclusion in order to keep the others from finding out about this – whatever it was.

Of course Mabel had not noticed his nightmares. While he suffered more and more brutal deaths, she slept better than ever. Even her early bird attitude had been replaced with sleeping till mid day and when someone went to wake her up, it would take at least 30 minutes and several wet rags to get her moving. Of course Stan didn't mind. Why would he?

Mabel had proven her worth to him in the portal chamber, so he ignored Dippers obvious fatigue and tried to shove her chores on his back as well. Normally Dipper would just leave the room, not caring for his Grunkle's protests, but it had become continuously harder to just leave and not tell Stan what Dipper _really_ thought.

Feeling completely justified with his bad mood, Dipper sat on the kitchen table reading - of course, what else would he do – not the journals but a light novel from Soos' collection. He hadn't touched the journals since he had burned them in his dream and continued to do so whenever they came up again. It would give him around half an hour of normal sleep before something horrifying came up again to murder the living crap out of Dipper. 

That was something new as well, next to his impassiveness to everything unnatural Ford dragged into the shack - why should he care about some low level creeps when in his dreams he faced foes trice that strong and scary? The cursing was mostly when he was alone or in deep thought, but sometimes his tongue would slip and a collective gasp would ring in the room followed by an disbelieving 'Dipper!'.

Not that he cared greatly.

Dipper lowered the cheesy book, clutching the bridge of his nose. Aaand the headaches started again. Would today be this kind of day again? Damn it, he had been so glad they had been gone yesterday.  
Another thing he had his nightmares to thank for. Next to mental and physical fatigue, an attitude that would give an unwashed tracker a run for his money and a constant paranoia with the memory what had happened _last time_ he had suffered sleep withdrawal, he experienced several illnesses. One day he would lay down with fewer, taking a great toll on his already exhausted body, the other day he would have a serious cold, turning his nose into a faucet. Almost on an everyday basis he would deal with headaches comparable to a giant drill made out of nettles penetrating his scull.

Needless to say he was a tad more jumpy, so when he heard someone approaching the kitchen, his entire body tensed up, reminding his muscles to be even _more_ sore. With footsteps comparable to bricks hitting a metal plate, his first Grunkle entered the cramped kitchen, barley taking notice of the boy sitting in the dark and reaching for the light switch.

Probably the only good thing coming from his restless nights was the fact that Dipper had developed a more than decent eyesight in the dark, sacrificing any light tolerance on the other hand. Even smooth candle light had his eyes tearing and skin itching.

So he was more than happy when the light bulb immediately shattered, even when his Grunkle let out an annoyed huff. Hell, the way Dipper was momentarily swinging, it was a bonus!

Not seeing his nephew in the dark, much to Dipper's pleasure, Stan left the room again, probably in search of another light bulb. He would not find one, since Dipper had changed every light bulb inside the shack in paranoid fit a few days ago with the hopes they would give more light in order to scare the shadows creeping at him away. It had not worked and Dipper had run out of spare light bulbs half way through the shack, but that was beside the point.

Feeling oddly _schadenfroh_ as his Grunkle left the shack to get new light bulbs, probably shop lifting them, Dipper picked his book up again. It would do him no good dwelling on the throbbing pain behind his forehead. Being alone and in the dark with some kind of distraction was all he could really do against it, so an annoyed groan left Dipper as Ford came from his room with Mabel right behind him. The two as well did not notice Dipper in the Dark, just voicing their irritation before Ford descended into the basement with a sickening gleam in his eyes.

Deciding to reveal his presences so he would not scare anyone - he would not be able to bear the scream without breaking something - Dipper wished Mabel with a slightly ironic tone in his voice, a good morning. To his misfortune Mabel's lip produced a shocked whelp, enough to make his skull throb again.

“Di-dipper.. I haven't seen you there. Haha, d-don't scare me like that“ her nervous rumbling ringed hollow in the kitchen.  
Since when had Dipper gone from adorable omega-sibling to scary, he mused. Deciding to leave that uncommented, he put the book down, no need in irritating his family with the skill he had trained himself over the last week. 

Heavy silence filled the room, Mabel looking awkwardly around while trying to avoid a gaze at Dipper with all her might. She cough and rubbed the back of her neck. “Have you eaten anything, Dips?“ 

The nickname felt wrong and forced. After another awkward cough from Mabel's side, Dipper decided that he could endure the amplifying drill inside his head for an answer. “I am not really hungry. You can eat my share of pudding if you want.“

“Aww, really bro-bro'? Thank you, that is so nice!“ beamed Mabel while she tapped over to the fridge, careful not to stomp her toes. “That's me, the nice Dipper“ he murmured, but either Mabel had not heard him or simply ignored what he had said.

The cold light of the fridge temporary blinded the male twin, forcing him to clench his eyes shut in order to protect the vulnerable iris. But the fridge did not close nor did his sister move. “Dipper?“ Uncertainty in her voice.

His insides clenched cold, she had seen his miserable state. Not that he had particular hidden it, but he was self-conscious about it and did not like the attention it got him.  
“When have you last slept, Dip-Dop?“ his sister asked, worry lacing her words. She as well was remembering what had happened last time her brother hadn't slept.

“Just shut the fridge door, it's hurting my eyes.“ Dipper stated annoyed. Oh, now his sister was prying? NOW she was interested? The light vanished, but Dipper only opened his eyes when he heard the wooden chair across him being pulled back and the rustling of fabric as his sister sat down, levelling him a calculating stare. She did not have to say a word for Dipper to decipher what she wanted to say.

“I am just having nightmares.“ Why was he belittling his own problem? Why was he playing down how miserable he felt? _Because they don't care_ , a quiet voice inside his head whispered. _It does not matter what they think, because they can't change it. They would only make it worse, you can trust no one!_

Even now Dipper could see that this made no real sense. Those thoughts where accusations thrown together in a giant pot, stirred around a little and served as the giant mess his head was right now.

Of course his sister would not believe him. “ _Just_ nightmares? You look like a wreck, Dipper. I'm worried, you know..“ she sighed as if this conversation would tire her. “Is this still about the portal thingy? You know that I am sorry that I didn't listen to you, but Stan..“ Her voice faded out, lost in memory.

Dipper's head snapped up, hate in his eyes. So this conversation was trying her? So she was fucking tired? She had NO IDEA what exhaustion felt, she had NO IDEA the pain he was in. The isolation, the fatigue, the self-pity. She had NO IDEA about that all! And yet, she arrogated to be able to judge him. 

As Dipper opened his mouth to tell her sister what exactly he thought about her tiredness, Ford entered the room, a proud grin on his face as he walked over to the extinguished lamp, unscrewing the old bulb and inserting a new one which looked suspiciously like one of the empty marmalades jars in the stock cabinet.

“Aand we're done!“ Ford said proud. Of course the old man did not see his brother in the entryway of the kitchen as Dipper did. Of course not. The old fool was just creating another conflict.

“Does anyone see this? This is what a hero looks like - right here“ Mabel stated, even if it sounded stained, she seemed irritated by her second Grunkle's interruption.  
Dipper suppressed a sigh. Way to rub it in, Mabel.

“I thought we were out of of light bulbs“ It was almost comical how disappointed Stan sounded. His shoulder slumped, dragging his hole body towards the ground. He looked suddenly a lot more wrinkly and old.

“Oh, oh we were. So I invented my own. It will last a thousand years and the light it emits makes your skin go softer. Anyway, where were you?“ Even if Stan had wanted to answer, he was interrupted by Dipper aggressively showing his chair away and stomping out of the cramped kitchen. There where too many people inside the small space and the light made Dipper's hole body arch, eyes tearing, skin itching and intestines cramping.

Without listening to the protesting Mabel, Dipper left the shack to slump down in a more shadower area under an oak, clenching his eyes to keep them from burning. He felt his body dragging to the ground, as if all his strings had been severed and only gravity was master over his stiff limbs now. The sounds of the forest where too loud, the sun too bright and the feeling of bark and grass on his backside too intense.  
Dipper felt like crying.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting under that tree, only ripped out of the maelstrom of fatigue, pain and self-pity by approaching footsteps yet again. Not needing to open his eyes to know that Stan sank down beside him, the characteristic cracking of bones and supple hisses from various random body part pains betrayed him. Dipper could really emphasis with his Grunkle's suffering at the moment.

God, he felt old.

“Soo.. You are not smitten by my brother like the rest of them?“ Please stop talking. “That's great, you know. To be honest, I thought you would fall first for his eccentrics. With that love for the unnatural of yours. But you see him for what he is, don't you? Ungrateful and dang-“

“What are you doing here, _Stan_?“ Dipper interrupted. He just wanted to curl into a ball and die. Would be the easy way out of this suffering. What he could NOT need right now was a great uncle looking for pity.

“W-well, I thought... Since you are a smart kid, we could-“ stammered Stan, but Dipper did not let him spin that thought far.

“Could we do _what_ exactly, Grunkle Stan? Team up on your brother like you teamed up on me with Mabel? Do you really think I would want anything to do with you after that?“ His voice dripping with venom. Towering over Stan – when did he stand up? - Dipper burning gaze basically melted the forefront of his Grunkle's head off. An oddly satisfying metaphor.

“Jeesh, kid. Calm down a little. I wasn't going to say that. I just wanted-“

“Yes, that is exactly the fucking problem! YOU want, MABEL wants, FORD wants. Do you have ANY idea what I want? Do you have ANY idea what I already suffered though for your fucking WANTS? Do you have any idea?“ Dipper was shouting now, his face warped into a mask of hate, rage and everything bad in this world. An expression which no child should be able to wear. Tears of fury running down his cheeks.

Stan had fallen silent, watching his nephew with shock in his eyes. What had he done to the boy? He clearly remembered the silent but curious boy that had been with him around a week ago. Looking now at Dipper, the lines between the two personas blurred, forming the twin into a new picture, ugly and rotten. What had he done?

AT ERAOUNS E ITELT O HTCNLSO,INTI?HHLLAFT CI 'TE

 

~

By now Dipper was kind of used to horrible nightmares filled with torture that would bring the middle ages to shame. So it was surprising to find himself on a unfamiliar clearing in the woods with nothing but empty space. Up until now, the nightmares had always played in places he knew, or at least had been to at some point in his life.

But this opening was so unfamiliar that it was almost comical. As if something wanted Dipper to feel like he had never been here. And by this point it was almost impossible for a greater being not to be involved.

“Greater being? Oh, Pine Tree. You humour me!“ Cold sweat ran down Dippers spine as he recognized this voice. Frantically staring around the clearing, he was not able to see anything. But that voice was unmistakable Bill Cipher.

The realization hit Dipper like a train. Why the hell hadn't he thought of the fucking _obvious_ earlier?

“That's easy to answer. Because I didn't let you~“ Bill whistled, finally materializing in front of Dipper by generating brick by brick until his hole gruesome appearance was created, hovering in thin air, twirling his cane in one hand and tipping his hat as a welcome. Even when it had happened before, Dipper still grasped fearful as the world seemed to tilt with the movement. When he had regained his firm stance again, he glared at the floating triangle.

“What do you want with me, Bill? Was the last ass-kicking my sister served you not enough?“ He spat, never breaking eye contact. But the dorito seemed only amused by his attempt to look intimidating.

“The question is not what I want, bark head. I would not bother with you normally, not when bigger fishes are in the pout – but! Well, lets say there are a lot of people reading right now, because they have this perverse urge to put fictional characters in situations they would never land in only to satisfy their need for smut and relationships they will never live though. R ZN ZDZIV GSZG BLF ZIV GSVIV“ Bill crackled highly amused.

“W-what?“ asked Dipper, completely lost by the entities words. What was that about? It made his head hurt and he decided that he had enough headaches in the waking world, he did not need them in sleep as well. So writing of the demons – was Bill a demon? He certainly acted like on – confusing behaviour off as the typical madness that thing seemed to erupt, Dipper frowned at him. “So, if you don't want anything, which I don't believe by the way, what are you doing here? And why wont you let me sleep?“

“I didn't think you so stupid, Pine Tree. What could I possibly want next to suffering, worship and world domination slash destruction?“ snickered the triangle.

Dippers eyes widen as realization hit him, he felt his shoulder slump. He could not give Bill what he wanted from him, but the twin was not sure how long he would withstand this torture. Swallowing spit down Dipper once again he steeled himself. „You want my body.“

“Oh, Pine Tree. Don't be so narcissistic! That's a sin, you know?“ Bill's eye curved mischievous. Looking in a confused kids face he clarified “I want world domination of course! I kind of thought that was obvious.“ 

“But-“ 

“Na na, kid. I'm here to suggest a deal. You do me a little meekly favour and I free you from your sleep problem, what do you say? I pull out your fingernail, you pull out mine?“ Bill stretched out his hand which immediately began to burn in blue flames. Still confused by the triangles actions, Dipper ignored it completely.

„Fingernails?“ He asked instead. What had that to do with anything they just talked about?

“Well, you know in an earlier version of this part I would enter the scene with an enthusiastic 'Missed me?', handsome as I am you would be completely starstruck and say something along the lines of 'As much as pulling my own fingernails'. It makes much more sense when you read it.“ Bill winked and wiggled his blue flamed hand. At least Dipper assumed he was winking. Kind of hard to tell with only one eye displayed.

“Okay... That is weird and I refuse to think about it. But you can shove this deal up you ass, Bill. I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.“ he glared, venom dripping from his words.

„Whoa, whoa language kid. You seem stressed, have you sleep enough?“ snickered the triangle, earning another poised glare. “But think about it. What's holding you back? Your family clearly does not care about you anymore. And I don't even want your body, the damage is done. Sixer is back.“

“Wait, you know Ford?“ Dipper asked surprised. What dealings had the oversized dorito with the author of the journals? Probably nothing pleasant, when Dipper remembered the page out of the third journal right – do not summon at all cost.

“Know him? Haha! I know that man better than he himself. That old-timer called me a friend before he stabbed me in the back.“ Bill sighed as he lower his hand again, flames extinguished. Suddenly the triangle looked almost... sad.

“Knowing you, you probably deserved it.“ Dipper stated cold, deciding to ignore the flash of pain in the others eye. He would not pity his torturer.

“Well, I did kinda threatened to destroy this entire universe“ Aha. “But it was completely clean, without any tricks. Sixer knew from the beginning what I wanted to do but he accepted either way.“ The dorito looked incredible smug all of the sudden. “But you know, Pine Tree? I think I will take you by your word. You should wake up know, he? I have places to see and people to be and we don't want you to have too much sleep, do we?“

With that, Bill snapped and Dipper woke up.

Y.ILHUB ETS NO SIUROMRHGPIUY FMGYESIUEN OREAES,ESSRGDUU.N TV IRI 

~

Half an hour.  
Dipper had slept half an hour before waking up.  
Thirty fucking minutes.

Fuck Bill. Fuck Mabel. Fuck Stan. Fuck Ford and most importantly fuck everything else.

It was a new record, Dipper thought as he yawned. A motion that had become almost as familiar as breathing in the last few days. 

After flipping a bird at the triangular window of their room Dipper dragged his hand down his face, feeling the skin follow the motion. Things got just a hell lot more complicated. He understood that it was going over his head, but to whom should he turn for help? Mabel? Stan? _Ford_? No he could not do tha- why not? What was against asking Ford for help? Bill said that his great uncle had past dealings with the dorito. So he should be well informed what to do against the pest.  
_But Ford had been tricked as well_ a small voice inside his head argued. And Ford was not really trusting Dipper and why should he? Dipper had been influenced by Bill for a hole week now without noticing. God, that time in front of the elevator – Ford must have looked for signs of possession. Dipper groaned, he was so stupid. The old man was clearly more experienced with this kind of stuff.

With new determination, Dipper swung out of his bed only to sway a little. Was that really alright? He just found out that Bill had actively influenced his thoughts, even in the waking world. He could not be sure what exactly his or Bill's thoughts were anymore. What was if Bill wanted him to think this right now?

A frustrated groan leaving his lips, Dipper fell butt first on the wooden floor. This was definitely too much for his exhausted mind. The palms of his hands pressing against his eyes, Dipper tried to muster up enough concentration for a few rational thoughts.  
How in the seven hells had Bill been able to influence his thoughts in the waking world? Dipper was fairly sure that the dorito was not able to act outside the mindscape until he made a deal with a being in the real world. Had Gideon summoned the possibly demon again to get revenge on Dipper? But Bill would not propose a deal if that was the case.

To be honest, Dipper knew too little about the triangles powers to judge what Bill could and could not do. Did the demon even needed a reason to play with Dipper this much?  
His shoulders slumped and he felt exhaustion and a sense of defeat coming over him. To be rational, Dipper would not be able to hold out much longer. But why resist? Bill was right, here in this family nobody cared about him, so why the bother?

No, shacking his head to get rid of these emotions, because they could not possibly be Dipper's, and slacking down on the ground like a puppet with cut strings another groan left his lips. He just wanted to sleep again, even nightmares were more welcome than-.. wait. Puppet?

Dippers eyes flew open – had he closed them? - and his body shot up. Bill did not need to make a new deal to control him, he already had one in place, had he not? Knowledge for a puppet, wasn't it? The term puppet was stretchable, like Dipper had experienced in his own body (haha), so what spoke against plucking strings to influence Dipper's mind? It would still fall to Dipper being Bill's puppet, would it not?

But Dipper had never received the knowledge he had wanted, he thought with a frown on his face. Bill had destroyed the computer... and thereby rendering the need for the password void? Was that even possible?  
But it was for the dorito to make the deals and rules with them, so it would not surprise Dipper if some kind of loop-hole existed for that purpose. 

Hand flying to the bridge of his nose, Dipper tried to recall the only other deal Bill made he knew of that had shot against the demon. Mabel had said that Gideon's end of the bargain was a favour, so that could have been collected later.  
But Bill hadn't been able to get the codes, so the deal was off. Bill had not given the password as well, so what was different this time? Both times the need for the codes had been short lived, either by destroying the safe or the laptop. Where was difference between the two? Was it even this deal, or something else. 

Bill had stated not to need Dippers body, that was good. World domination on the other hand was bad. What was Dipper supposed to do against that. And why should he care? Last time he checked, the world had not given a shit about his suffering so why should he? And how the fuck should he be able to tell if these where his real thoughts or just something the dorito wanted him to think?

“D-dipper? Why are you awake?“ came from Mabel's side of the room. She sat up on the soft mattress and yawned certainly not lady like. The male twin needed some time to gather his thoughts, his gaze unfocused again. Should he tell Mabel about his encounter with Bill? Was this concern even his own?

“What's going on, Bro?“ Turning his head he saw the anxious look his sister threw at him. His decision was made that moment.

“I am fine, Mabel. Just need some air“ murmured Dipper, his lips letting a exhausted groan escape as he rose and leaved through the door. With the little attention he got from his sister the last few days he thought the conversation would be over, but Mabel appeared to disagree. After a few hazy moments she needed to collect her thoughts, she urged him to wait before hastily following him the steps down into the living room.

The room was illuminated by moon light, outlines of the furniture barley visible in between living shadows, which gnarled at the old wood. Dipper only glanced at the triangular rug on the hard-wood floor, swearing he saw it blink (wink?) up at him. He heard the familiar clumsy steps coming to halt behind him, filling him with memorys of bare faces and the need to breath.

“Dipper, please talk to me. You are worrying everyone..“ Mabel stuttered, as an audible shiver ran down her spine. She did not want to admit it to herself, but Dipper was sure she was afraid of him. _She better be._

“What's your problem?“ asked the hazel eyed boy cold. He really had no brain capacity for her shenanigans now, he needed to find a way to get rid of Bill in order to... in order to save... in order to save people that would sweep his accomplishments under the carpet again. A headache came back full force, leaving him unsteady on his legs with the sheer force it used to drill in his head.

“I am your sister, Dipper. You can tell me anything, I'll listen.“ tried the usually so cheerful girl to convince her brother. Sadly, she used the wrong wording.

“Oh, yes? Like you listened to me when I told you to shut the portal down?“ Dipper asked, the venom from earlier back in his voice. Mabel frowned. “Is this about the portal _again_? I told you I was sorry, but you gotta let things be. It worked out, didn't it?“

“This is not only about the portal, Mabel. This is about everything else in this family that’s wrong. Say, when was the last time you did something _not_ selfish?“ glared Dipper, the hate and pain from the last week boiling up inside him.

“What are you talking about? When was the last time _you_ where not selfish, Dipper?“ mocked Mabel. She was hurt by her brother words and tired because of the early hour. Little did she know that her brother felt ten times worse.

“WHAT? Are you even listening to yourself Mabel? What _haven't_ I done for this family? What haven't I sacrificed?“ bawled the male twin, voice steady rising.

“Oh poor Dipper, everyone is out for him and wants to do him injustice.“ shouted Mabel, voice rising on the same level as her brothers, arms on her hips. Hands formed to fists, Dipper could not believe his ears.

“Big words, Mabel. Do you even know what 'injustice' means? You certainly can't spell it!“ Mabel gaped, but before she could retort something, Dipper continued. “You have no right to speak of injustice, you have ignored me for the last week! Or if you haven't ignored me, you made fun of me!“ remembering the DD&D incident clearly in front of his eyes, rage swept over his boundary, consuming the boy completely. He wanted to hurt, so everyone would feel the pain he felt.

“We haven't ignored you, you were just constantly gone! And when you were around, you would jump at everyone that did just so much as look in your direction“ barked Mabel, the little concern for her brother out the window with his words.

“Oh, so now it's _my_ fault that you life in your own little world? Wake up Mabel, the world isn't made out of sugar cones and nice people!“ howled Dipper, red rage filling his vision. The stress and strain from the last days unloading on his sister and for the first time in weeks he felt _good_. These things, always thought but never said to finally leave his lips, it left him giddy and air headed.

“You know what? I think you're just jealous that Grunkle Ford knows more about mystery than you! You are jealous because suddenly you are not the 'mystery-boy' any more. _You are nothing!_ “ exploded Mabel, before realization dawned on her face. All fury was suddenly gone and her shoulders fell in disbelieve. “Wait, Dipper.. I didn't mean it that wa-“

But Dipper had already left.

ANA AAA NAN ANNANNAANAN? 

~

Dipper ran.

Tears streamed down his face, his lungs arching to keep up with his speed and desperate sobbing. The endeavour of the last days had won the chase, rendering him a mental mess.  
Mabel's words rang in his ears, hitting to close to home. He _knew_ that she was right - to an extent. 

He wasn't even able to identify when his thoughts were tampered with, how were people supposed to rely on someone so unqualified? All his successes came from the journal, from _Ford_ of all. He was just a useless child, throwing a tantrum while people much wiser were hindered by him.

He was nothing.

His vision blurred, his eyes seemingly overflowing with tears. Sobs came akin to hiccups, leaving his lips uncontrollably. His muscles burned from overuse, begging from rest.  
So when his foot was caught by a root and the world turned as he fell in the cold dirt, he stayed down and hugging his shacking form.

Sobs came stronger now, not needing to share breath with physical exercise anymore. Tremors rocked his body and he began to hyperventilate.  
Eyes shut and wailing, he did not notice that the colour retreated from the world. He did however felt the hand gently stroking his locks. Not caring who the owner of that hand was, Dipper let it's rhythmic motion sooth him. Maybe it was Multibear or one of the gnomes that habited this part of the forest. It was not a human hand, that was all he could tell.

Feeling somewhat calmed down, Dipper let out the last weak sobs while wiping the tear stains on his face away. Sniffing, he turned his head up, curious who would give him comfort in such a time.

He did not expect the faint golden glow of a certain triangle menace who looked at him with an odd expression.

“B-Bill? What are you doing here? Is this about the deal again?“ He asked confused. The odd expression did not falter, though.

“Why can't they just leave it alone? GSRH RH MLG URXGRLM!” seemingly catching himself from whatever emotion had befallen upon him, the malicious glint returned to Bill's eye. “Well, if it isn't my favourite meat-bag slash bark head, Pine Tree! Fancy meeting you here“

Startled by the quick change of emotions, Dipper needed a second to regain his focus. “Don't play innocent with me! I know that you have been influencing my thoughts, so you knew very well that I was here. How much from what I said and thought just then was really my own, you oversized dorito?“ he snapped, patience running thin. One run-in with the triangle per day was more than enough.

“Influencing your thoughts? How did you come to that wonderful little idea?“ chirped Bill, blinking (winking?) innocently. “Nah, kid. Haven't influenced anything. Why should I? You meat-bags always come to the best conclusions when you are tired. Even I am sometimes surprised by the creativity of a sleep deprived mind.“ 

“But you said-“ Dipper started but got interrupted.

“Yes, I _said _that I did not let you come to the conclusion that it was handsome old me who nudged your sleep habit a little bit. Worlds of difference.“__

“I don't understand.“ Dipper was confused. Where was the difference? Or was Bill simply lying to him?

“And that's the great thing, is it? You don't _need_ to understand at all“ hummed the triangle. “I am by the way really hurt because of your comparison between me and this low, earthly snack. I am certainly better dressed“

Dipper snorted, first time in days. “Yeah, as if.“ he remarked earning the biggest pout a mouthless triangle could give. That did him in. 

Clenching his stomach, Dipper began to laugh slightly hysterical. The sound of his tremor shaken body resounds in the surrounding woods, leaving a mark in the otherwise tranquil mindscape.  
If Bill had a forehead, he would be frowning right now.

“You know kid, it can't be healthy to change amplitudes of emotions so fast“ he reasoned, only for the boy at his feat to howl louder, tears leaving his eyes. 

“That-ha, that says the right guys.“ he brought out between heavy breaths. “But you are avoiding the topic“ Sobering up between those words, Dipper stood up, patting the dirt and dead leaves from his body and staring at the triangle, who hovered a few feat above the ground.

“Why were you able to influence my thoughts in the first place? Is it because our _deal_..“- saying the word 'deal' with the same articulation one would use for the word 'tapeworms' - “that I am you puppet is still in place? But you haven't given me the knowledge I needed. Is it still in place because the need for this knowledge became invalid when you destroyed the computer? Then what is the difference to your deal with Gideon? He destroyed the safe in the end as well...“ wondered Dipper. He had not meant to start ranting, but once he had begun talking all his thoughts had spilled, leaving him with the mess to clean up.

But looking at Bill was probably the weirdest thing he had seen in the entire summer. An unreadable expression on his face, his body had turned into some sort of display, flashing seemingly incoherent pictures too fast to grasp at the twin. But Dipper caught the image of a younger version of Ford, looking at a deformed shell on the beach. Before Dipper could analyse the picture, it had been replaced with at least ten other ones. Feeling his headache to form again, Dipper looked away and into the grey forest. 

The trees stood pretty close and the undergrowth was tick without real means to get through. Turning his head to the path he took, Dipper was surprised to find none. The throned bushed looked a lot more ragged than the rest and a quick gaze down his legs and arms revealed several minor till pretty bad bleeding cuts.  
He had not noticed the pain until now and continued to not feel any discomfort by his wounds. Maybe that had to do with the nature of the mindscape. Could you not be hurt inside it or were you simply unable to feel pain? It would certainly explain Bill's strange glee towards pain when he had taken resistance of Dipper's body.

“Curious..“ Dipper's head snapped up at the doritos musing. “That is a little tricky and I am not sure that muscle lump of yours is able to keep up.“ grinned the demon. At least Dipper thought he would be grinning if he had a mouth. A big, toothy grin.

“To understand that, you need to know that there are rules to deals, not made by me or anyone in particular. And though I am normally all game for rule breaking but the consequences could not up the fun. But those rules are littered with loopholes. That pig Gideon's chase was pretty forward. I could not attain the knowledge he wanted and he ended the deal. What he did after that was in no way my concern, even if it was _hilarious_. You wanted knowledge as well, but our conditions were a little more fishier. On purpose of course, or else I would not have been able to posses your body ~ good times.“ The triangle sighed while Dipper tried to suppress a shudder.

“Anyway. When I possessed _your_ body, the deal was still intact and since I used your body to destroy the computer, it was kinda in your consent that I did so. Na na, don't give me that look. Technically it was still your body, even if I moved in for a while. As I said, loopholes.“ explained Bill smug. It was clearly visible that he enjoined his position and function as some kind of tutor.

“So the deal is still in place? You could still simply posses me?“ Dipper asked demotivated, this was not what he had wanted to hear. It made things a lot more complicated..

“Or easier, Pine Tree. The perception matters“ grinned Bill maliciously. “But yes, I could still use your body if I wanted.“

“Which you don't, because Ford is already here and he would probably notice?“ Bill nodded. “So you use your – ugh, possession rights to trick me into not noticing you?“

For a second the triangle seemed baffled, before he broke out with peals of laughter. It got even louder at Dipper's grumbled comment about changing the emotional amplitudes rapidly. 

“You are quite a handful, Pine Tree.“ mocked Bill. “And I _know_ \- because why should I not? - that you did not have any help coming to that conclusion. You are miles ahead from Ford when he was your age.“ Bill wiped a literal tear away from his eye but Dipper did not care much for the motion.

He gaped at the triangle, surely Ford had been a lot cleverer than him in this age?  
Hearing his thoughts, the demon sniggered.

“Oh no, I would go even as far as saying that you could beat Sixer in inter dimensional chess, if he were up for it.“ remarked the triangle.

But Dipper just shook his head, Mabel's word still clouding his mind. _You are nothing_.  
It had stopped hurting thinking about her, but now was an emptiness where earlier his unconditional love for his sibling had been. Bill was observing Dippers reactions, deep in thought himself. This might be a one in a lifetime opportunity and Bill had quite the long lifetime.

“Listen, Pine Tree.“ Satisfied that he had the little saplings attention almost immediately, Bill continued. “You have a lot of potential. Potential to be greater than any other meat-bag in this miserable dimension, but you will wast it. So I am proposing the same deal I made with Ford all those years ago. I take you under my wing..“ -making flapping motions with his arms earned him a risen eyebrow- “ and teach you all kind of interesting stuff about this dimension and any other, as a tutor you could say. As quid pro quo I only want a little something that is in Sixter's possession that is by the right of our deal _mine_. And I do not share.“ Turning red for a few moments, the veins in his eye dangerously yellow before calming himself again and producing a picture on his body of something that looked suspiciously like a snow globe. 

It had liquid looking matter inside, sprinkled with white flecks like stars. After a moment of observation, Dipper came to the conclusion that they probably _were_.

“What do you want with that stuff?“ He asked with not nearly enough suspicion that would have been appropriate when a demon shows you the image of a doom snow globe.

“It is a rift between dimensions and for what I want with this, I already told you as I recall.“ Bill snickered devilish. 

“Wha- oh. Suffering, worship and world domination slash destruction?“ Dipper asked unfazed. Curious how familiar you could become with an omnipotence after you had a few talks.

“You got it kid!“ giggled Bill while flowing around Dipper in a quick motion, halting in front of him again, holding his hand embedded in blue flames out for Dipper to shake it.

When Dipper looked at the outstretched hand, he felt a giddiness coming up in him again. He could learn so much! It was tempting, but... Throwing a glance to the direction he came from, Dipper's train of thought halted. Why was he thinking about those people again? They clearly did not care about him enough to come looking for him, so why should he? Why should he care about their welfare and morality when they did not care about his? This was a perfect opportunity for Dipper to leave that family, leave the teasing Mabel, the lying Stan and the disinterested Ford behind.

But Dipper was much if not careful. “When I agree, no harm will come to me and no chicken out. If I help you bringing destruction to this dimension, I don't want to die in it..“ stressed he. After a moment, he added “And you leave that sleep deprivation bullshit. If I decide not to sleep, I want that to be my decision.“

Levelling Bill with a hard stare to which the demon just beamed at him while nodding, Dipper took a deep breath.

Clapping his hand with the demon, he mused for a second about the coldness of the flames. “Deal.“

 

And this is how the Pine Tree was chopped down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I did it. My very first fanfiction.  
> Please, if you find any mistakes, let me know. English is not my mother language and I tend to be a little rocky with the grammar.
> 
> As for the story. I am unsure if it came across right, but Dipper was cleverly manipulated into submitting to Bill. The  
> sleep deprivation took a great toll on his 12-year old body, combined with the either lack of or negative social interaction left him aching for attention, which he got by Bill.
> 
> The ciphers used in this story are all of a different kind each (Bill uses always one method when he talks to Dipper) and I leave them to you guys to figure out. Some of them are however locked with a key phrase, to which I give the hint that Bill Cipher likes the number three but finds it beneath him.
> 
> EDIT 24/04:  
> Jeesh, I just dug myself through the mountain called HTML and prettied the story up. Maybe it makes the story a lot more readable or maybe not. I am certainly a little more satisfied with the results
> 
> Thank you for reading my humble work,  
> Bye  
> Kladdis


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that just happened. And I thought I could relax after writing the last chapter. But since a lot of you guys asked for a second part, here is your angst and despair – mixed with a little insanity.
> 
> I want to credit Starysky205 as my beta reader (thank you very much, you are awesome!)

Why are people so fixated on their keys?  
They always complain that theirs are missing; they are always looking for these damned things. Never are the keys where they belong, people are always searching for them.

But maybe people just notice their keys when they’re missing. Isn't that ironic? Why do people need to be remembered what they posses, how lucky they are? Not that Dipper was innocent in that aspect.

He had never appreciated sleep as much as he did after a full week without it. Blissful, dreamless sleep that left him fresh, healthy and happy. He had found his keys and did not intent to lose them any time soon. What would he loose next – what would he find too self-evident before losing it? He was afraid of that thought; it was easier to just think of keys.

It was much simpler to think about an emotionless object than thinking about the possibly dooming deal he had made with a certain triangle. His head was still buzzing with a weird mixture of panic, confusion and guilt – Dipper very well knew that nothing good came from deals with Bill. Heck, he had suffered it firsthand!

But despite everything inside him that screamed, he found himself oddly giddy about the promised aspect of infinite knowledge. Would Bill keep his promise though? He had sounded sincere and interested in tutoring Dipper, on the other hand Bill _was_ a dangerous demon-like entity with at least two knifes ready to backstab.

Dipper sighed and run a hand over his eyes. It was miraculous how much a little sleep did to his health - he felt at least thirty years younger, but logically such quick recovery was not possible in such a short time. Probably Bill's work as well, not that Dipper complained, so that he could get the doom globe faster. Remembering his own words from the day prior – had it really been just a few hours ago? - Dipper opened his eyes and took in the weathered and wooden ceiling of the twins’ room. No chickening out – that meant Dipper as well. Too late for that after all, he had already sealed the deal.

Dipper supposed that he lost conscious after that, he had no memory of going back to the shack nor laying down to sleep. A quick glance to the more colourful side of the room showed Mabel's bed empty, the sight hollowing in the space prior occupied by the love for his goofy sibling.

It was barley ten, where was she? With her new found love for sleeping into the day it was a wonder to see her even lucid at this time of day. But Dipper mused that this behaviour was probably initiated by Bill so that Dipper wouldn't wake his sister. Manipulative bastard.

 _No chickening out_ he remembered again. There was no use in dwelling inside his bed over things he could not change. Better get moving than admitting that he did not want them to change, that would get ugly on a completely different level.

So he rose from the warm comfort of the blankets where the days prior always unbearable heat had been. So he actually took a well needed shower, only partly to get rid of the blood still covering his legs, reminding him of his foolishness - he was not able to admit that it was something different than utterly foolishness – and mainly because of the greasiness of his hair. He wanted to wash the sickened memory of the last week away, hoping his emotional dilemma would be suck down the drain as well.

Of course he wasn't that lucky, but at least he felt a lot more alive than before. He could actually see the appeal in showering on a regular basis... What had Bill done to his head?

Suppressing a shudder, Dipper stepped fully clothed in the usual cotton t-shirt, shorts and puffy vest into the living area of the shack and was welcomed by the sight of a completely devastated Mabel. Several empty cups surrounded her, some with oozing, pink rests of her infamous Mabel juice and her head was supported on her arm as she fought a losing battle to keep her eyes open. She had purple bags under her eyes, looking almost amusingly out of place on the usually to active twin.  
It was weird to see an attribute so characteristic for her brother on her face, the exhaustion in no way comparable to the fatigue Dipper had suffered through, but still evident enough for him to wince in empathy.

That was it though. Empathy – not guilt or even anger. Dipper could understand the fear of flaking out and the following stress the own body put on you. He could understand the pain signals her body was probably sending her right now to make her listen to the need of sleep. So Dipper looked at his sister, the words from before not forgotten – they were branded in his very soul – but out of mind. And he felt bad in a way.

He knew that his sister had been staying awake because of the fight last night, but there was no guilt over the things said. They had been boiling up for a while now; it had been really a matter of time until he exploded - even without Bill's 'help'. And there was still no guilt over the deal made, over betraying his family and evidently the whole human race for a little bit of knowledge. The slightly hysteric, giddy feeling remained dominant over the rest.

But just looking at Mabel from the doorway let him feel the guilt and regret radiating from his sister and he noticed the tear stains on her cheek for the first time. He still felt nothing at that sight. Shouldn't he feel at least something? Regret or even anger? _The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference_. Huh, where had he heard that? It felt familiar but oddly foreign at the same time. Like a song stuck in his head he did not know the lyrics of. But wherever that inspiration had come from, it was not lessened in truth. Maybe he really had no love for Mabel anymore.

 _No chickening out_ he reminded himself once more before cleaning his throat. As suspected, Mabel shot at least two feet in the air and turned with wide eyes around to stare at Dipper. “Good morning, Mabel. You lookin’ … great?“ he murmured awkwardly. Heck, he had no idea how to face his sister at the moment. Would she notice his indifference? Probably. Dipper had never been good at hiding stuff from her. If she was able to decipher (hehe) his absent feelings correctly was another question which he did not seek the answer to.

“D-dipper? Where the heck have you been? I have been awake the whole night to wait for you coming back!“ Mabel drawled; the exhaustion and stress having cut her temper short. Oh, where did Dipper know that from? “I have been worried sick, you know! You can't just leave me here alone!“. She stood up and - after a few steps – ended in front of Dipper, fingers shackling clutching his shirt. “And then you come down here, after I said those horrible words, with a 'hi Mabel'?“ Openly cringing now, Mabel circled her arms around her brother who returned the hug warily.

Even after that admission of guilt, he still could muster only empathy for his sibling. But somewhere, deeply buried under morals and empathy, Dipper felt _great_. The pain and stress and fatigue he had suffered through had now befallen his dear sibling, only because she had done the final push in a chain of events that lead to him joining Bill to doom the world. The irony was not lost to Dippers conscious thought, but less brutally honest.

So he stroked her hair soothingly and let his mind wander to harmless things – like keys. “If you had come up you would have seen me sleeping safe and sound, Mabes. It's ok, we just forget about that.“ He muttered into her hair without paying mind to the things leaving his mouth. They were blatant lies, but twelve years spent with a person resulted in these kind of apologies running automatic and without meaning. Not that Dipper minded at the moment, indifference was such a strange emotion towards the previously most important person in your life and he needed to figure out how to act around Mabel.

The nickname seemed to calm her a little bit so that she just buried her head in Dipper's chest, sobbing quietly. Shaking pitiably, her hold seemed to fester on her brother. “That- that was not ok, Dipdop. I said-... I said horrible things and I-... I didn't mean a thing I said. I'm so so-oory...“ she cried. There was not much left before a mental break-down would befall the twin, Dipper knew that. So using his most sickeningly kind voice, he tried to calm his sister. “Mabes, I already said it was ok. I forgive you. We were both tired and not in our right mind. And you are still tired, Mabes. Why don't you go upstairs and sleep for a while. We can talk as soon as you can think clearly again.“

Mabel lifted her head and gave him a weak smile through tear strains and snot. Dipper had forgotten how much mucus his sister produced when she cried. Presumably a good thing. So he tired the most positive smile he could muster even when it felt alien and wrong on his face. His sister seemed not to notice at all and after untangling herself from her brother, she shuffled in the direction of the twins’ room.

Watching his sister's back, Dipper let his mask fall when he was sure she would not notice. Like dust in the wind vanished the caring look in his eyes and fond smile, replaced by a horribly empty expression. Somehow, despite his indifference – he denied all the other positive emotions, which were clearly bad to have – he felt uncomfortable around his sister. As if he had an itch on the lower half of his back that he couldn’t for the love of god scratch, no matter how much he stretched and twisted. Like a white noise right behind the bone of his forehead, festering and vibrating his whole scull _just_ in the right frequency to be off-putting.

He was glad that Mabel was away again.

Shaking his head, because _that_ was certainly not a good thought to have, he headed for the kitchen. Keys, just think about those blasted things. But whatever deity – probably Bill at the moment – was watching over him loved to make him suffer. So when he entered the kitchen, Ford sat at the table and read a newspaper with a steaming mug of black coffee in his hand, an untouched slice of bread in front of him. Dipper watched one of the many flies that surrounded the shack settle down on the strawberry jam.

Startled by some noise Dipper had apparently made, Ford looked up surprised only for his eyes to dull in recognition. Another Dipper would have been severely hurt by that expression, but this Dipper found himself just irritated by that uncomfortable feeling again. But Ford had something Bill needed, and to an extend Dipper as well, so he swallowed his pride and approached the old man.

An apologetic smile on his face and only in the last moment refraining from calling Ford 'Sixer', Dipper wished his good mornings and receiving an equally enthusiastic one. He probably deserved that much. But pulling himself together was something Dipper had perfected in the years living with the emotional carousel called Mabel Pines and he started another assault.

“Heh, ahm... I am really sorry for my- ah, behaviour the last days. It had been really stressful and I didn't really sleep well…“ He stammered, stumbling over words and lies, wondering just for a second if it had been a wise move to inform a guy who had been dealing with Bill for a long time of his nightmares. But Ford disappointed.

“Ah, well. I haven't been the most approachable, have I? Stan told me that you like to read my journals?“ The old man smiled, obviously attempting small-talk.

“Oh, yes. I like-“ _to see them burn_ “-to explore the forest and your journal had been a great help with that.“ Dipper forced a smile on his lips, the white noise behind his forehead just growing steadier and ultimately more annoying.

“To be so young once more, to see the wonders of Gravity Falls through the eyes of a child- that would be great.“ mused Ford dreamingly, gaze blurring for a second before capturing himself again.

“Yeah...“ Dipper digressed. He really did not want to have this conversation right now. But despite that he shot a discrete gaze at his second Grunkle behind a curtain of hair. He could hardly believe that this man had made a deal with Bill Cipher, he seemed so harmless. Though Dipper had made a deal as well with the same background, it seemed less real and plausible for the old man. He looked like a naturally paranoid person, why should he trust someone like Bill? Ignoring the hypocrisy yet again, Dipper sighed. This was going to be a long day.

“Well, since you liked my journals that much, why don't we go out and 'venture a little in the forest? I am sure that there have been major changes in the flora and fauna during my time in the multiverse.“ Ford smiled encouraging. Dipper though could image a lot more productive stuff to do in his free time. Why should he waste his time with Sixer when he had accesses to the original source? On the other hand, if Ford had knowledge of the different universes- maybe he could explain Bill's strange comments about the 'different versions' and these beings who changed the predestined flow of time.

 _You shouldn’t ask Ford about that..._ Dipper's brow furrowed. There was that alien feeling again, as if his thought not really belonged inside his head. It did not feel different from his other thoughts, the tone not varying. But still, the alien feeling would not go away. It was certainly created by Dipper's mind, but the unfamiliar feeling was not localisable.

“That would be great, Grunkle Ford. But maybe not today, I'm still not on my high. Is the offer to come down in the lab still standing?“ He forced a slightly docile smile on his lips, the alien thoughts could wait. It was far more important for Sixer to trust him, so the old man would not get suspicious when Dipper asked him about the Doom-Globe. Maybe he could even persuade Ford to 'lend' him the blasted thing.

The old man levelled Dipper for a second with a hard stare, probably looking for the confused and absent child that had been his nephew just a day ago. When he found just a nicely smiling boy, a real smile claimed his lips as well. “Well, I would suggest to not venture down to the labs, they are still not safe. But beneath this shack there’s far more than just a lab.“ The smile turned mirthful.

Sensing that Dipper would not be able to press his request without rising suspicion, he let his smile stretch as well which only made it feel falser. Why had Sixer not noticed the forced demeanour by now? “That would be wonderful, Grunkle Ford.“ He purred with the most honey slicking voice he could muster, letting the 'r' roll off his lips. The fluttery seemed to work wonders, as Ford jumped up immediately and ventured with an enthusiastic 'Let's go!' to the shacks rubbish shop. Dipper followed while musing if Bill used the same tactic to get the old man to agree to whatever deals that dorito had in his brick-head.

 _I heard that, bark-face_. Ugh, there were these alien thoughts again. Despite having a pretty clear picture who was manipulating his mind to think that way, he decided it could wait till a later date. Preferably never.

13-9-19-19-5-4 13-5?

~

The basement was colder than he remembered. It felt a lot livelier with its old inhabitant back but it didn't ease Dipper's already stained nerves.

While he descended, walking behind Ford, Dipper's thought refused to stay on the more innocent aspects of his completely fucked up life. Like keys.  
His mind wandered over Bill's seemingly control to the deal made in the forest to the absence of feelings towards his twin, buzzing around the facts with an unpleasant pace. Guilt for betraying his family was still not in sight and the sick sense of glee inside him was still denied by his consciousness. So he was left with a highly confusing cocktail of feelings and a head that refused to keep quiet for a while so he could concentrate on the important things.

Barley keeping himself from running into Ford's back as the old man stopped in front of the elevator, Dipper was shaken from his thoughts and hurled in a precarious situation. Following Sixer inside the rusty metal cage while convincing himself that it would not crash - it had held Soos, for crying out loud – he began to hum an unknown melody. Of course Bill promptly supplied him with the lyrics.

 _We'll meet again-..._ “So Dipper. We will enter my study, there should be a lot of interesting things that are only a little deadly.“ Ford explained in a show-off way. Dipper only hummed vaguely.

 _Don't know where,..._ The elevator stopped in front of a squiggly ornate wood door that looked a lot heavier than it probably was. A great gold lock decorated it on eye level. Without using a key – because why should you lock your study with all your work inside?- Ford shoved the door open with little to no effort. Either the old twin was a lot muscular than one would assume or Dipper's guess was right. Probably the latter.

 _Don't know when-..._ Dipper tripped over several parchment roles as he entered the most interesting room he had ever seen. It had the calming flair of a library, just _cooler_. Every space was filled with loose blueprints, notes or other papers. The surfaces that were not covered in those were filled with pickled animals, which seemed to scratch the bridge between normal and unnatural, and other highly interesting machines or creations. The far end of the room was covered with multiple monitors.

Stumbling over yet another pile of indefinable stuff, Dipper gripped a handful of loosely-knitted drapes that hung slack over a big frame to steady himself. He heard the old man shout a warning before his eyes were captured by the piecing gaze of a certain triangle. The motion had set a chain reaction lose as every other cover in the room fell to the floor, revealing always the same figure.

 _Oh, I know we'll meet again some sunny day_. Dipper felt observed, a creepy tingling in his neck that spread like spider legs down his spine left him with goose bumps. Somewhere in his brain a wire burned, sending him into a hazy emptiness. The more rational part of his brain jumped in with the information that Dipper had all rights to be shocked by these pictures, since - despite the deal – he already made acquaintance with the entity. This didn’t make the whole situation even a little less creepy. Dipper had the impression that he had invaded something very personal and couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had disrupted something slightly perverse.

“Uh, Grunkle Ford?“ His throat felt dry and he had to swallow spit that had collected between his teeth. “Why are your walls plastered with images of Bill Cipher?“ Of course Dipper knew why the dorito was here, but the Dipper he played did not. Highly thankful for the rational part of his brain – he would have never reacted so cool if he had been able to fully operate – he turned around to observe Ford's reaction.

The old man had lost all with enthusiasm, face drained of blood. He wasn't looking at Dipper, his gaze had zeroed in on the painting that Dipper had uncovered first. He opened his mouth a few times, each beginning a sentence of 'ums’ and 'ahs’ without muttering a single intelligent word. And Dipper had compared himself to that looser? He himself had been more intellectual with sleep deprivation eating his senses away, exhaustion painfully aware in every movement. No wonder Bill preferred the young twin.

Ignoring the pride inside him at that thought, Dipper approached Sixer hesitantly. Carefully laying a hand on the others arm, ripping Ford out of the haze his mind had been in, Dipper raised an eyebrow at the older man.

“You-...ah. You know Bill?“ He asked, looking highly uncomfortable. Makes two of us, Dipper thought ironically. “Yes, we have fought him twice already.“ he lied. “Once he tried to get the codes to Stan's safe out of his head and the other time he possessed me to destroy the journals.“

Momentarily speechless, Ford stared at the boy. “That-..that is very impressive, Dipper. Not many can say they survived an encounter with Bill.“ His gaze wandered back to the image of Bill. “But this is very alarming. If Bill has possessed you once- it could mean that he could try to get inside your head again. We need to protect you from that.“

Dipper had a hard time forcing the hysterical laugh back down his throat. A little to late for that, old man! Oh, he was dying to tell Ford that right now. Which he probably wouldn’t since the deal was the only thing protecting him from the apocalypse.

Rather fond of his life, Dipper decided for a critical frown. “What does Bill want actually? I mean, he did mention that he had 'big plans'“

Ford sighed and pulling the skin on his face down with a familiar motion that Dipper found himself doing more than once on a daily basis, he began to pace the room. “Bill wants the total destruction of this universe, damning the consequences. He wants to open a rift to his dimension. Bill would gain a physical form in this realm and would not need the mindscape to operate anymore. It would be the end of the world, an event which I called Weirdmageddon“

Suppressing the laughter that threatened to bubble up _yet again_ , Dipper made the best puppy impression he could muster. “But how could he do that, Grunkle Ford?“. Highly suspecting the Doom-Globe to be pretty important, he tried to bring as much curiosity and innocence in his gaze. Something that was not quite as hard as the puppy impression, since at least half of it was sincere. He _was_ really interested in the dorito’s plans and hearing the story from the other side of the spectrum would be quite entertaining.

“He plans to use a-... remnant of the portal my brother foolishly activated to open the rift.“ Ford reluctantly explained; he seemed not really comfortable of telling Dipper about that. So he still didn’t trust Dipper. Damn it.

The Doom-Globe could be anywhere in the lab so there was no use trying to find that thing on his own. Despite that, Dipper let his gaze wander around the room, taking in the overstocked furniture and the brimming bookshelves. Suddenly his body froze and his eyes focused on a familiar item – a 21-cube and some plaid paper. Felling a malicious smile stretching his lips, Dipper turned to Ford and feigned innocence.

“Oh goodness, are you a fan of Dungeons, Dungeons and Dungeons _too _?“__

Seeing the old man's face lightening up as if his birthday and Christmas had fallen on the same day, Dipper chuckled darkly. This would be easy.

DV'OO NVG ZTZRM, WLM'G PMLD DSVIV - WLM'G PMLD DSVM...

~

So after a rather successful day filled with D,D&D, an infinity dice and a rescue mission from a still very tired Mabel and Stan, Dipper sunk in the comforts of his bed.

For a moment an anxious feeling crawled over his skin, what if he would have nightmares again? Unable to contain a shudder, Dipper nervously scratched his left arm and closed his eyes. He felt as if he had stones in the pit of his stomach and gravel in his trachea, the whole room seemed too cold even beneath his blankets. Bill had said no to give nightmares anymore, he tried to comfort himself. But the dorito hadn't really said that, had he? He always spoke of letting Dipper sleep, never about how pleasant the sleep would be. 

And anyway, since when did Dipper trust the lunatic triangle? It was not like he and Bill had a history of fulfilled promises and successful deals.  
Somehow that thought... hurt. 

Glazing between his lashes, Dipper looked at his peaceful sleeping sister. She had been so happy saving her brother today - like old times. She had giggled, laughed and smiled, more than she had done the whole week. Mabel had been so happy to be with her twin again, the betrayal would have been heartbreaking if Dipper found himself caring. 

Honestly? The emptiness scared him. How could emotions that where on the scale he had felt for his sister simply vanish? It was unnatural, it felt wrong. But still, he could not muster an ounce of sympathy, a crumb of attachment. He felt broken, as if he had shattered and been repaired but with important pieces missing. Was that Bill's fault? Had the triangle done something to his emotions, to his bonds? 

Somehow, Dipper doubted that. It wasn't like he wouldn't expect the dorito to be above cruel manipulation - the past was proof enough – it was more like Dipper didn’t _want_ to suspect Bill. He wanted Bill to be honest about the deal, needed him to be. Because what would Dipper have left when Bill betrayed him as well? Where could Dipper feel at home again, when he burned every bridge in his way? 

And since when did he depend so much on the triangle? 

The hazel-haired boy felt tears forming before they flowed over the rims of his eyes and down his cheeks. But they never met the mattress; they met the dry leaves and dirt of the forest and shattered on the ground. 

The air was fresh and the forest tranquil. White fog hung between the tree trunks, hiding the wild live between its condensed arms. The evergreen trees looked dark in comparison with the wet white mist, dew hanging from their pine needles. On the whole, the woodland appeared more like a detailed painting, drawn by the most talented artist. 

“Well, thank you, Pine Tree. I can appreciate a compliment when I get one“ a familiar yet bodiless voice resound between the trees. Dipper suppressed a sigh, whether it was from annoyance or relief, he did not dare to dwell on. But Bill's presence meant no nightmares, at least if you did not count the dorito’s presence as nightmare material. 

“As if you created this forest, Bill. Even if, you made it inside my mind, so technically _I'm_ the painter.“ argued Dipper, suppressing the slight feeling of mirth that appeared with the light banter between the triangle and him. He was suppressing a lot recently. 

Bill appeared out of thin air, this time without flashy animations. Was the triangle getting tired of that? Somehow that thought highly amused Dipper. “As if your undeveloped meat-bag brain could make something like that.“ Bill remarked, eye showing delight. It seemed that Dipper was not the only one enjoying the banter. “But let's talk business. How's the search of that rift going?“ 

“As if you don't know that. I'm not stupid- shut your mouth- and I noticed you mingling in my brain. No, I haven't found the rift but Six- I mean _Ford_ definitely has it. He knows rather well that you plan to obtain it, though.“ Dipper decided to ignore the malice sparkle in Bill's eye got when he confused the names. 

“As if- nah, that lost its appeal ages ago...- I already knew that stuff, because I know _everything_ , just wanted to check how much you tell me willingly” smirked the demon. “And I am by the way not a demon. Those are beneath me. I am a _dream_ demon. Great difference.“ 

Dipper frowned. “How so?“ 

“Well...“snickered Bill “Normal demons influence surroundings while brilliant me has domain over the mind.“ Feeling Dippers confusion, the dorito groaned in annoyance. “Look at it this way, Pine Tree. How do you experience the world? Trough your senses. And how do you evaluate those? With your brain- more, with your _mind_.“ 

Understanding dawned on the twins face and his eyes gained an exited shimmer. The demon tried to ignore how much he liked that expression. “So you say by manipulating the mind, you can manipulate how the surroundings are experienced? You could tell the mind that- I dunno- it is raining and the body would feel like it is? The person would be tricked into believing that its cloth get wet and they would look for shelter?“ The words left Dipper's mouth in a haze, he could hardly control his thoughts. That was amazing and really, _really_ impressive. Not to mention powerful. 

“Well yes, technically. But I'm caught in the Mindscape at the moment, so I can't really influence the real world. If I was to gain a physical body, I could go all the way and just _make_ it rain dead puppies.“ smirked Bill. 

“Dead puppies? That is weak- especially for you.“ chirped Dipper. “But now I'm really hooked for your arrival. It sounds so interesting.“ 

“Ha, leave it for a human to find the end of the world _interesting_. You guys are a riot.“ laughed the triangle “Really did a great choice in selecting you for the deal. Owning you is so much fun.“ 

“I bet.“ grimaced Dipper ironically. He decided to ignore Bill's obvious claim over him, it was better not to think too much about those things at the moment. 

“Oh, now that you remind me. The author wanted to apologize for the stale plot, she had no idea it was used so often in the franchise.“ mentioned Bill. 

Dipper grazed that with a non-committal 'aha' and started walking, Bill flying just a step behind him. The trees looked a lot more detailed than they could ever in reality, it would be strange to go back into the waking world. Like replaying an old game and wondering if the graphics had always been so bad, the memory had looked so sharp. Even when the colours had drained away it looked still impressive and simultaneously soothing. Dipper could really get used to these kind of dreams, not that he would ever tell Bill that. The dorito’s ego was big enough. 

“Was there anything you wanted except from asking questions to which you already know the answers to?“ he quipped. 

“Nah, not really. The mindscape can be pretty-... empty, if you don't count all the screaming and swearing meat-bags I sometimes _invite_.“ answered Bill somewhat ruefully. For second the lonely expression had returned and Dipper had the feeling that Bill had originally not intended to say 'empty'. A wave of pity rushed over the boy, he had never really thought about that. The Mindscape had always been empty, so in conclusion - was Bill always alone? 

“Scratch that thought, Pine Tree. The mindscape is empty because it's just the connection between the third dimension and the nightmare realm. There are a lot more demons where I come from.“ replied Bill to his thoughts, but Dipper was not convinced. 

“Then why spend time with me when you have a whole demon army at your disposal for a fun time?“ he taunted. The triangle looked a little hurt at that statement. 

“Demons are not the most-... social creatures. They get tiresome and boring after a while. Humans are way more fun. Your species is _hilarious_.“ mocked the demon but it felt half-hearted. 

“I don't really know why, but I don't mind spending time with a completely insane demon, you know? And since my 'species is hilarious' like you said so charmingly, I think we are both good. At the moment it is either you or my family, and I don't really like the latter right now.“ mused the boy. Once he had started talking, the words had flowed out of his mouth and he was shocked by their sincerity. He really meant it; he liked spending time with Bill. A week ago that thought would have him hysterically laughing on the ground, but after all that had happened... At least Bill was honest enough to admit that he was always lying with ulterior motives. Somehow it felt better than not expecting the knife in the back from his sister and Stan. A straight forward betrayal felt more sincere than theirs. 

The triangle chuckled and looked highly amused. “I'll come back to that. But I think you should wake up now or you'll never find the globe. Nice talking to ya, Pine Tree.“ 

Dipper nodded, he really had work to do. It would be so interesting to see the destruction of the world; he didn't really want to wait so long.

GURL UNIR N GENVGBE NZBATFG GURVE ZVQFG

~

The following days where filled with false laughter, dishonest smiles and crooked friendliness. The shack was filled with a subtle tension, only noticed by Ford and Dipper- both interpreting it differently. For Ford it was the proof that Bill planed something, the calm before the storm, and for Dipper it was the detached emptiness he felt for everyone except a certain triangle. Both where right, of course, but did not know how to express their worries to the rest of the shack. Ford tried, but was written off as paranoid and Dipper... Well, why should he tell someone about his feeling? They were satisfied enough with the net of lies Dipper had created, never second guessing the pre-teen. And he himself had the whole night to eagerly talk with Bill, something he enjoined more and more, so why should he care about his so called family? They would never understand him; they would judge him the second he revealed just a sniff of his inside.

But despite everything, Dipper could recognise that he and Ford had the potential to become real friends in another universe. They were similar in character and preferences. But like Bill had once said, Dipper was superior. It did however nothing to ease the jealousy on his side, jealousy of Ford's experience and knowledge. And the old man still belittled Dipper. And it infuriated him. He had to calm himself with the thought that Ford would regret it someday. They all would. 

So when the day came in which Ford showed Dipper the Doom-Globe, saying that it was really dangerous and could mean the end of the world, Dipper was ecstatic. He had waited and played the nice, shy boy for exactly this moment. His mind had gone rigid with glee and malice, presumably a mixture out of his own and Bill's feeling. 

He had waited until nightfall to decent into the laboratory to steal the globe. The booming silence was unnerving as Dipper passed the dead machineries, stepped carefully over broken glass and rubble. Tension was almost palpable in the air and Dipper felt watched, something he had grown accustomed to over the last weeks. It still sent spider-like shivers down his spine, though. 

He had his backpack with the stolen three journals weighing him down, his caps shielding the faint moonlight from his eyes. Carefully, he approached the main console in the portal room, now knowing about the secret drawer Ford had hidden the globe in. It was almost too easy as Dipper pulled the heavy, wooden drawer and reviled the object of desire. It looked different in the moonlight, the substance inside the glass seemed less fluid and the black void filled with a lot more stars than before. 

Dipper frowned as he put the globe into his backpack, nestling it between the hard covers of the journals. He had not questioned Bill's request of bringing them along, even when they meant little to nothing to him anymore. As he crept back to the entrance his gaze was captured by a shiny object in the far left corner. On a whim he approached it, an object illuminated by the moonlight falling through a hole in the wooden part of the ceiling. It was hidden inside a not quite closed metal drawer, seeming almost innocent. As Dipper pulled the drawer open with an uncomfortable _shriek_ , a maniac smile appeared on his lips. 

Stuffing the object into a pocket of his vest, he acceded again. He was supposed to leave the shack and venture into the forest to await another order. But he did not get as far as that, being stopped just outside the shack. 

“Stop right there, Bill. Give the rift back.“ demanded Ford, aiming a gun at Dipper's back. 

“Give my brother his body back, you insane monster.“ cried Mabel, sounding furious. 

“You won't come far!“ shouted Stan, followed by an enthusiastic encouragement from both Wendy and Soos. 

An unseen smile stretched Dippers lips as he, having his back still turned to his 'family', lowered the backpack and took out the globe, showing it to Pines&Co. “Do you mean this?“ he asked with an insane giggle. Oh, how long he had waited for this moment. He would have been honestly disappointed if he could just steal this under the shacks eyes. 

“I knew that something wasn't right with the kid! The sleep deprivation, the suddenly change behaviour, the interest in my work – leave the boy's body right now, Bill. This is between you and me!“ shouted Ford. 

“But, _Sixer_...“ Dipper said calm as he slowly turned around, the smile nearly tearing his skin. “I'm not possessed.“ 

Looking in five shocked faces, Ford was the first to regain composure. His gun aimed now at Dippers head. “So you have been charmed by Bill? Whatever he offered you, kid- it's not worth the cost!“ barked the old man. 

“Oh, you would know that, wouldn't you Sixer?“ snickered Dipper. This was everything he had hoped for. Ecstatic glee filled his body, making his muscles spasm lightly “Bill offered me the same deal he offered you all those years ago.“ 

The wanted effect almost immediately seen on Stan's face as his head snapped to his stare at his twin. “What is he talking about, Ford?“ 

But before Sixer could brush away the question, Mabel seemed to unfreeze as she took a few steps forward. 

“D-dipper? Why-...why are you doing this? We are-... we are your family“ she babbled as tears spit over her cheeks. Her hand reached out to grab her brother despite the distance between them. 

“Oh, I don't know, Mabel.“ hissed Dipper, the previously felt glee completely washed out of his body. His voice dripped of venom and he levelled his twin with a burning gaze. “Maybe I want to do something _just_ for me, maybe I'm sick of being everyone's errand boy only to be thrown away as soon as Fez here makes pretty eyes at you, Mabel.“ 

Even bigger tears started rolling out of her eyes as she chocked sobs left her lips. Her arm felt to her side and her body went slack as she fell on the hard wood of the parch. 

“Dipper, can't you see what you are doing? You are dooming the entire world! You are betraying everyone that loves you!“ snarled Sixer while Stan sunk on his knees beside Mabel, soothingly stroking her back. 

“Then we are not as different as you thought, hm?“ sang Dipper, the glee was back as he addressed his second _Grunkle_. 

But Sixer just lowered his gun, determination on his face as he straightened his back. “Yes, I made a deal with Bill all those years ago. But it was the biggest mistake of my life, my biggest regret. Don't listen to him, kid. He will betray you!“ 

“Oh, I know that.“ responded Dipper gently. “I know that he is waiting with a knife to stab me in the back. I have not forgotten to trust no one. But better someone who openly admits that he will betray me as soon as a better option is available that the deceitful betrayal of you guys. I just have to make sure I'm the best option all the time.“ 

“And what will Bill do when you find out that the rift in your hand is a replica? Did you really think I would trust you with something so important?“ taunted Sixer smug. But his smile wavered as the insane grin retuned to Dippers lips. 

Tilting his hand, Dipper let the globe fall to the ground, not even flinching as the glass shattered into pieces. The black fluid inside spilled and was absorbed by the cold dirt. He heard the shocked gasps from the others as he pulled out another, the real globe out of the pocket in his vest. “It was clever, I have to admit that. But you should have hidden it better, Sixer.“ mocked Dipper, his smile showing all teeth. “I'm sure it was well hidden in the sunlight, but the _moon_ illuminated things a little differently“ 

Ford shoulder slumped and he looked truly hopeless all of the sudden, devastated even. Mabel's hands were in front of her eyes as she sobbed, Stan's had stopped moving. Wendy's were in front of her mouth to hide his shocked expression, while Soos' were hanging at his side, completely useless. It was funny how Dipper could decipher the others emotions solely by their hands - easier that looking in their faces. 

_Burn them_ hollowed the alien thought inside his head again. Without question Dipper put the rift back in his pocket and removed the journals from his backpack, throwing them to the ground. He enjoined the shock that seemed only to deepen on Sixer's face – his last hope in the hands of the child. 

“No!“ Sixer took a few steps forward as Dipper pulled the matches out, but the younger twin was trained in the motion and the books burned before the old man could reach them. The flames licked unnatural high around the weathered leather, fuelled by a demon in the nightmare realm, consuming them in a heartbeat. 

Now Ford fell to his knees as well and Wendy let a tortured cry out. But Dipper just stood on the clearing of the shack, eyes closed and enjoying the moment. He had dreamed so often of this moment, something would have missed if he hadn't done that before leaving. 

“I think it's time for the grand finale, don't you think?“ he mused, not really there as he pulled the rift out yet again. 

“No-..Please Dipper. Don't do that! You-..you are my brother! Pl-...please don't-... don't do...“ Mabel sobbed, desperately looking at her brother. She would have tried to catch his gaze if he hadn't closed his eyes. 

“You know, Mabel...“ Dipper mused calm. “People always remember their keys when they are missing.“ 

Tilting his hand yet again, the world held it's breath as the globe fell towards the ground. The cries of his family drowned by crushing silence, Dipper watched the glass break, first small tears before the whole thing combusted into dazzling light. 

Suddenly, the noise was back. Dipper heard the panicked screams of the other, he heard the booming noise the pillar of light made and he heard the insane laughter from beyond the white. He saw the blinding pillar ripping a hole in the sky, a colourful rift in the air. He had doomed this universe, but he found it impossible to care. He felt numb as he watched Bill materialize, flesh and muscle growing over his two dimensional form. He felt distant as Bill lowered himself down to Dipper, gripping the boy’s shirt and vanishing- leaving behind a maniac laughter and empty space.

…

~

The world was in flames. The cries of innocent town people were far from vanished and the variety of monsters roaming Gravity Falls far from done. Of course it was restricted by the magical barrier around the strange town and Ford, who probably knows the equation, is nowhere to be found, probably leading a revolution in the underground.

Dipper stood in front of the hole in the frearamid that time-baby had blasted before he was obliterated by Bill and looked down at the world below. It had to be around four days since the rift had opened, but it could not be said for sure since time itself was destroyed. Feeling a familiar presence approaching, Dipper straitened his back. When Bill appeared in his perennial vision, the triangle chuckled. 

“I guess you could say that the heavens have fallen down. Falling heavens so to say.“ he chipped. 

“I think they got it somewhere along the lines. They are not as stupid as you like to think, Bill“ stated Dipper detached. His emotions were long buried deep inside him. Numb. 

“Oh? Have you figured it out?“ purred the triangle, sending an amused peer his way. 

“You made it easy enough, should work on your _subtlety_ though.“ nodded Dipper as he lift his head to look at the sky. “This is a universe out of thousand, created by a single mind to satisfy the curiosity and perverse _schadenfreude_ of the crowd“ 

As Bill started laughing insanely, Dipper's gaze dropped to the town again. He had doomed the world for a little knowledge. It was easier to just think about keys.

A smile appeared on Pine Tree's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I would feel even more anxious about uploading the second part than I did with the first. I'm actually shaking right now.
> 
> Thank you for all your support and nice comments, it really motivated me. And thank you for reading my work. Yes, I'm talking to you right now, you there in front of the screen. Thank you.
> 
> So, this isn't the last you have seen of me. Thought you could get rid of me? Think again, I've licked blood. I'm planning another (hopefully shorter) Oneshot and a multi-chapter series, so I'm far from done.
> 
> But before I can start on any of that, as much as I want, I go on a vacation to Budapest, Hungary. But then I will have a lot of time to get working (with a lot of time to figure out a mind-blowing plot for the multi-chapter) and will probably be a little faster in writing my ideas since bringing them to paper devours a lot of time.
> 
> But until next time, I'll await your return,  
> Bye  
> Kladdis


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